“So, do you want to come to Winnipeg?”
I was talking to my husband. I didn’t often (ever) ask him if he wants to come with me to the conventions. He is really not that kind of guy. However, this one was different. This time, I was up for an award.
“Sure, I could go,” he replied. “If you want me to.”
“Of course I do. Do you want to fly or drive?”
He thought for a moment. “Let’s drive,” he said.
Good enough. Decision made. I sent a frantic email to Billie Milholland (we had been talking about flying down together) to let her know that my plans had changed, and then really thought about what we were doing.
We were driving. To Winnipeg.
It’s a long way from Edmonton to Winnipeg. However, we decided we could turn it into a mini holiday. You know, like regular people do. Take a long weekend and go on a holiday. Not do what we usually do, which is hang around, waiting for the inevitable phone call that lets my husband know of some water related disaster in some small town somewhere in Alberta. For once he would not be heading to that small town, usually late at night, trying to fix the disaster, so that the town would have water in the morning. We would actually be going out of town. For fun. Ooh. This was starting to sound good.
We were both up early on the morning of May 20th. All we had to do was pack up the Element and head out before 10 AM. Nice leisurely drive down the road, stop in Yorkton, maybe meet Barb Galler-Smith, Diane Walton and Ann Marston for supper. Have a good sleep, and head to Winnipeg the next morning. Nice.
Then the phone rang. A few minutes later my husband ran out the door, yelling “Pack the truck! I’ll be back when I can!” A disaster had befallen one of those small towns, somewhere in Alberta. I hadn’t even thought to ask “Where are you going?” I just closed the door and brewed myself another pot of coffee. Suddenly I had tons of time.
I packed my suitcases. (Yeah, I’m one of those late packers.) Then I watched the season finale of “Supernatural.” I ate. Played with the dog. Wondered if I could still get a plane ticket. Wondered if my husband was ever going to come home again. Wondered why the heck I ever thought driving to Winnipeg was a good idea.
He came back at 2 PM. “Did you fix it?” I asked. I didn’t even ask what “it” was. At that point, I didn’t give a rat’s ass.
“No. But I think it will hold together for the weekend.”
“So we’re still going?”
“Yes. Is the truck packed?”
Oops. Luckily it only took a few minutes to throw the luggage in the truck, and by 3 we were on the road, the jury rigged town water system behind us. We got to Yorkton, too late to meet Barb, Diane, and Ann, but we made it all the same. And the next day, we booted it for Winnipeg.
Winnipeg, and Key Con. And the Auroras.
